


If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around

by fazcinatingreads



Category: Australian Rules Football RPF
Genre: Football, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, carlton - Freeform, carlton football club, men's football - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fazcinatingreads/pseuds/fazcinatingreads
Summary: Youth Justice leader and social worker Alex Fasolo comes to his hardest task yet: hosting a group therapy session with retired footballers still feeling traumatised by their experience at the Carlton Football Club.





	If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around

It was already hot by the time Alex Fasolo arrived at the tall grey walls with electrical wire on the top. 

He stopped at the coffee cart near the entrance and bought two double espressos, knowing it'll be a tough day, and swiped his card at the gate to enter the complex.

Walking through the lobby entrance, the air conditioning was a welcome relief and he paused for a second to soak it in.

Then he briskly walked up to the reception desk and handed over one of the coffees. "Good morning, Deborah," he greeted.

The receptionist Deborah took the coffee gratefully. "Good morning, Alex," she said.

"How are you today?" Alex asked, as he did every morning. Deborah had just gotten out of a terrible marriage and was still using the photocopier room more for crying sessions than photocopying.

She flicked her gorgeous blonde hair over a shoulder and smiled. "Better today," she said, taking a sip of the coffee. "Ooh, a strong one today."

"Yeah, I need it," Alex said, taking a large mouthful of his own coffee.

"Why's that?" Deborah asked, looking at him quizzically. Every day was hard for Alex in his position. 

"Just working with a group of maligned and unfortunate victims," Alex said, shrugging, and downed the rest of his coffee. He tossed the cup over Deborah's shoulder and it landed with a thunk in her wastepaper basket.

"Good shot," Deborah noted, impressed. "You should join a basketball team."

"Already have," Alex said, over his shoulder as he wandered through the doors to the hallway that led to his office.

At his desk, he gathered together the documents noting the participants of his morning group therapy session. They weren't all occupants of this prison, but he'd invited them all here anyway. He read through his notes while flicking through his inbox, his eyes glazing over at all the emails.

...

At 11am, Alex headed to the room organised for the therapy session. He opened the door and saw most of the chairs still empty in the circle, only two chairs occupied.

"So glad you could make it," Alex said to Tomas Bugg, who was busy typing on his phone.

"Yeah yeah, just tell me when we're starting," Tomas replied, not looking up.

Alex sat on one of the chairs. He looked at the man sitting next to Tomas. "You really didn't have to come, Daisy," Alex said, "i thought you were okay now."

"I'll never be okay," Daisy Thomas replied, a haunted look in his eyes. He had one hand deep in a greasy paper bag.

"How many have you eaten today?" Alex asked gently, noting the emptiness of the bag.

"At least 5," Daisy murmured, shame filling his face.

"Sorry I'm late," a voice came from the door, and a man bustled in through and sat down heavily. Both his shoulders were strapped heavily and he looked perpetually exhausted.

"It's alright, Chris," Alex said, smiling gently at the two time brownlow medallist Chris Judd.

A few others came through the doors, and each plonked down on a chair. 

One of them had a neck brace and both arms in a sling. "Rhys," Alex said with a respectful nod at Rhys Palmer.

Another was covered in tattoos and holding a half-eaten muffin in one hand, with a few bulges in his pockets. "Sorryamlatejustcamefromthecafeteria," Heath Scotland said, his mouth full of food. He was one of the inmates at the prison.

"You know that lunch is only a few hours away, right?" Alex said, lightly.

"We only get the muffins at breakfast," Heath explained, swallowing a whole mouthful, "They're delicious." He reached into his pocket and pulled out another muffin.

"Are you going to share?" the man next to him said angrily, attempting to grab the muffin out of Heath's hand. "I'm starving."

"Now now, Jed," Alex said, shaking his head at Jed Lamb, "No need to be aggressive."

"I'm not, I'm just hungry," he spat.

"it's okay," Alex said, gently. He looked around the group. "Okay great, I think we're all here."

The door burst open and Setanta O'hailpin came rushing in and sat down in the remaining seat. "Thanks for waiting," he said, in a thick Irish accent, "Flight was delayed."

"No problem," Alex replied. He clapped his hands. "Alright, so we're all here for the same reason. We've all suffered at the Carlton Football Club."

The guys around the circle looked around and sized each other up.

Setanta pointed at Chris Judd. "He's won two brownlows," Setanta pointed out, "He's a lot better off than me. I got beat up by my own teammate."

"We all have our demons," Chris said, smiling sadly. "Being locked in our home by Dictator Dan forced me to come to terms with a few things."

"You have a man cave," Cameron Polson spoke up, scowling, "All I have is a few fanpages that I made myself."

"Alright this is good," Alex said, "We're airing our grievances. Get it all out."

"I can't stop getting into motorcycle accidents," Rhys said, his eyes downcast. A tear slipped down his face.

Alex nodded, smiling at Rhys. "It's okay," he said, "We all need to feel something other than the pain that club caused us. It's alright. This is a safe space for all of us to say whatever we want, no judgements. We're all here for each other."

The ex-footballers around the circle all nodded, their eyes haunted and lined with shadows. They were all broken but healing. One step at a time.


End file.
